A feeling of emptiness
In the middle of plethora
I search for sprouts of life
In the valley of dead scavengers
A feeble call from my exhausted soul
Crooked nebs reaching for flesh, paused!
With flames of hope fading so fast,
Will I survive these hours of darkness?
A scream took birth in my stomach
Found its way up to the throat
Came out as a muffled cry
In the wee hours of midnight
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem